


The Endless Howling

by Piccola_Poe



Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Childe/Sire Bond(s), Confusing Emotions, Dealing With Loss, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mention of Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-16 03:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21500755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piccola_Poe/pseuds/Piccola_Poe
Summary: England she is a beast.Howling at my soul until I come home.
Relationships: Geoffrey McCullum/Jonathan Reid
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Posting this might help me finish this.  
> It has an ending, but I slow putting it together.

When Jonathan woke up, he knew that he could not deny it any longer, although he didn’t want to admit it at first; London was 5,585 kilometres away from him, the calling was eternal.  
  
Elisabeth had tried everything to distract, and New York was a fantastic place. He had also loved his new job at the New York–Presbyterian Hospital. But like a violent wind, not only the force could be felt, but the endless howling was getting to Jonathan. He had stopped working, stopped helping people, stopped everything. Elisabeth could see nothing of her Jonathan left; a hollow shell was all that was there.

“Jonathan, my dear, you can not go on like this,” Elisabeth spoke gently stroking the side of his face and kissing the top of his head as a mother did to soothe.

“I know,” Jonathan muttered as he continued partaking in staring at the same wall that had his attention for the past three days now. If he were hoping to burn holes into it, the wall would have burnt to a crisp by the second night. “London is calling.”

“I know,” She replied. When possessed by the Red Queen’s rage with Jacob Blackwood, she had committed such horrors to the world, then Elisabeth had been bound to England when William Marshal had saved her. She would always feel guilty for everything and everyone that had suffered at her hands, Elisabeth had hoped now to see the world again with a new light. “I can not go back.”

“I understand.” Jonathan could tell everything was over, but caring about it was painful, and he no longer wanted to suffer, but to numb the feeling was to become the monster which he dreaded. Proving that McCullum was right, amongst with all of his weird cult-like believes, was not something to look forward too.

Considering that it was probably the end of their relationship, he had decided to take this lady out tonight; he thought that he might just be coping better than his first thoughts. They would enjoy themselves together, maybe for the last time.

“My lady, would you join me on such a lovely night?” Jonathan stood up and bowed to the Lady before him.

“And who am I to say no to such an offer.” Elisabeth offered her hand to him.

They would end up finding themselves in a park at the centre of this village, accompanied by a beautiful waterfall in the middle of it. The weather was a mild cool, compared to the sweltering heat, that had been cracking the pavement and bothering people according to the newspapers. But Jonathan had only been please with the New York weather, he never felt like a drowned rat here. The lousy weather of England. Had only the misfortunate on the streets and the miserable weather kept most people indoors, Jonathan remembers having the streets and alleyways to himself, all the better to dispose of some poor sod, who had dared to cross him. Thoughts linger upon the members of those nights as a grim smile crawled up his face.

“What have you found so funny, my dear?” Elisabeth questioned him. Holding onto him tightly, she was afraid to lose him. Jonathan was close to telling her the truth when they were rudely interrupted by some common thugs. Jonathan felt immense enjoy at this moment, and he could not wait to tear them apart.


	2. Chapter 2

  
Jonathan could smell the Thames before entering it. This welcoming dread washed over him the same feeling that happened to the man he once was, a soldier returning to a household held by the hinges. If only he had known then that he would be the one to break in the door.

It had taken Jonathan a week to leave his hotel room. He had taken up the mundane activity of staring into the hollowing darkness and listening to whisperings, were they the activities of life around him or something darker. The insane would share his secrets of what happened in those long nights alone, the etchings of something more profound. England was apart of his maker and Jonathan apart of this new age structure.

When showing himself again, it was with the poorest people of England and to a certain Skal of the hopeless. The little overwhelmed Sheppard tending to a flock beyond his control, if the wolves came nipping at the legs of the sheep they would be dead in the morning, the watch was long and treacherous to keep every sheep safe in that camp, but The Sad Saint did just that. 

  
  
“I can not believe my eyes,” The Sad Saint of the East End exclaimed. “Dr Reid you are back in England.”

“Yes, I am Sean,” Jonathan answered gently.

“Welcome back,” Sean muttered, turning his head away. The man’s attention was back upon his little shelter, as some of the older children had returned from their working jobs, back to their impoverished parents or parent.

“Thank you.” Jonathan replied, “While I am here, is there any need of medical assistance?”

“Oh Doctor, when have we not needed your assistance.” Sean lifted his eyes and stared straight into Jonathan's with such kindness that only this man seemed to possess. “The Good Lord always has provided.”

Perhaps it would be good to have Sean around him again, the man could maybe rub some of his purity off or just helping out around here for a bit would remind him of who he was. “I am here and willing to help.” Sean nodded, explaining what was needed. Jonathan merely followed Sean as he scurried around.

After finishing with helping the shelter, he strolled through the cold cobblestone streets until arriving upon the doorstep of his childhood home. Jonathan’s mother had passed a year before Elisabeth and himself had left. Elisabeth had sympathy for the older woman and let Jonathan care for her until the end. Jonathan has always suspected that Elisabeth could see death coming to humans better then he could, after living off them for so long and being the age that she was. 

His mother had been teetering upon the edge of sanity and mental instability. All the stress over Mary’s death and with the knowledge that her son was not what he seemed to be, everything pushed her to that edge. Jonathan and Avery Cork, the Reid family's butler, were happy to leave her on that ledge, trying to bring her back would lead into a mental breakdown. Most of all, her friends and people knew that she was living in the land of some delusion. They sent their condolences, but it was not like his mother was the only suffering from the war and plague that had past. There were many in this city suffering dying slowly from the mental disease that left their body numb.

Jonathan left Avery in charge of the house, with a newly hired maid younger than Avery. Jonathan had asked Avery to come to America, but he had refused kindly. Avery had told Jonathan was tied here and would die here too. 

Jonathan was greeted at the door by Gloria, the new maid. “Welcome home, Dr Reid.” She curtsied politely in front of him. 

“Gloria, my dear, you did not need to wait up for me to return,” Jonathan said.

“It is my job, Sir.” 

“Your job may I remind you is to take care of Mr Cork and the house.” Jonathan shook his head, letting her take his coat from his broad, but lean shoulders. 

“But Mr Cork was so insistent that I wait for you.” She winced a little, dropped her eyes and nodded.

  
 _“That dear man.”_ Jonathan thought with a mixture of amusement and tired resentment. “ _Never mind what I say, Avery, you are such a dedicated man.”_ He gave her a small smile that made Gloria feel a little better. Thanking her, but reminding her that he was quite an independent gentleman, saying his good morning to her as he headed up the stairs.


	3. Chapter 3

The next wet, dreary nights followed were the same, being the friendly, sympathetic Doctor. Jonathan did not speak much anymore, just the usual small talk of medical stuff, inquiries on people, then where and when to go next.  
  
Jonathan did not even feel like going back to Pembroke Hospital, Not that Dr Edgar Swansea had not begged him enough. Maybe it was about time Jonathan Emmet Reid to open his own office or surgery.

 _  
“Now that sounds like a good idea.”_ Jonathan thought, playing with it even more. He would not have to deal with other Doctors that he did not like, same for the nurses. Jonathan would have the hours that he desired without anyone questioning him as to why. He knew the people to enquire with and who to staff it. 

When Jonathan returned home for once, he was glad to see Avery and immediately started making plans with the man to get this idea going. It would not be too hard, Jonathan had a significant number of people mixed within the classes, who would give money or lend a hand if asked.  
A sense of excitement was slowly coming back into Jonathan’s life again, not that his desire to help had ever stopped, but this was a whole new adventure.  
  


Jonathan went to his bedroom before the morning came, filled with a new sense of purpose. That was until he was interrupted when stripping down for bed. An anxiety-driven wave hit him, he collapsed onto the floor, but he had been quiet enough so not to raise any suspicion, a gift that came with his abilities. Jonathan just sat there on his knees by the bed, his hands over his mouth. The whisperings started howling again. 

  
It never ends, it never stops, I grow cold and it bold. Jonathan was having a fit before he knew it, uncontrollable gasping for air and trembling when it all subsided he just ended up crying long and hard into the morning, before surrendering to the floor to sleep. 

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

Geoffrey McCullum had been watching the doctor arrived back in England, but acting on what he wanted to do was impossible. The Guard of Priwen was having a shakedown and reconstructed after all flaws kept coming back, horrendous acts were committed. Geoffrey had always acknowledged, it secretly. The ability act was out of his hands, with the Spanish flu and the plague were like wildfires. Geoffrey had suffered losses near and far. The land was now scorched and smouldering, he had to strike while the iron was hot and for the three years that bloody nuisance Jonathan Emmet Reid was away, Geoffrey had built a new Guard of Priwen.  
  
Yes, it has gone through the mud, screaming, yelling and biting his wrists at the same time, But Geoffrey had prevailed, even being an Ekon would not stop him and did not. Yes, a deceitful creature he was, but one that would hunt the vampire to the ends of the earth and make the other vampire step into line or die. Geoffrey was a wary man, but happy with how things had ended. At last, he was going to make Jonathan decide his fate; Happiest was he who sat on the hill.

The Doctor was busying himself with his new venture a doctors office. A collection of doctors that Jonathan had great trust and admiration for, all in one building, with a small surgery. It was in the common area in the West End, but still close to Whitechapel. The building had been donated by a debt collector, that Clarence Crossley knew. Jonathan gathered people quite quickly that even the church wished the man was a preacher. No amount of vampire abilities could make people come to him like flies around a bloated corpse. No, that mongrel had learned to combine all-natural and supernatural skills.

Geoffrey could not hate his maker really; he had found it hard to do. No matter how he spoke or thought of the man, nothing could bring back the hatred. But something had been left there; instead, Geoffrey did not want to drive into that black hole of no return.


	5. Chapter 5

Jonathan had felt his child before he was near. Out of the two that he had sired and the one Skal that he had acquired, it was Geoffrey that he wanted to see. The man was a stubborn mule at the best of times and the worst pain in the backside at the least, but Jonathan felt more of a connection to him. Their souls howl suffering, standing like a house windowless and without doors; there was a touch of cold at their core. He could not help partaking in every memory that was Geoffrey McCullum. It had been a glance before Geoffrey locked him out. They had both lost so much, so many would have faulted, but they became stronger left with an emptiness that would echo for eternity.

Geoffrey’s pain was caused by his vampire father, his mother's murder, sparing his brother that same fate and being the last to live through it alone. Jonathan’s fate was to be the champion of England. Myrddin’s puppet. A place which he wanted no ownership. A land which he had no control. Nothing but an endless howling if he should leave it. Jonathan had tried to end it all but decided to suffer instead. Death was too natural; life was long and hard; it was what he deserved.

“Reid.” A voice called from the doorway of his office.

“Ah, Geoffrey do come in.” Jonathan greeted him and waved the man in.

“You did not hear anything,” Geoffrey replied and closed the door behind him. 

“It appears so.” He murmured, rolling his wrist and spinning his chair around. 

“Bloody bastard.” Geoffrey just watched that stupid son of a bitch.

“I would like to inform you that my mother was married at my conception and until her death.” He tutted Geoffrey with a grin. Jonathan found he was more curious about this subject than anything else Geoffrey had said.

“What cheek.” Geoffrey spat, knowing that his slur had not done anything to upset the man sitting at the desk. 

“Come now Geoffrey,” Jonathan sarcastically laughed. “I have missed you.”

“And I not you.”

“Come closer.” He called gently.

“What, so I can say what big bright eyes you have.” Geoffrey knew what Jonathan had just tried to do to him. “Never again.” He was not some lower-class progeny that would willingly come when called. 

“If you wish.” Jonathan sighed standing up, then using his abilities to jump in front of Geoffrey. “I’ll come to you.” Jonathan grabbed Geoffrey and held him in an unbreakable embrace. “I may have learned a little something of Lady Ashbury about childer.”

“You can not hold me for long leech.”Geoffrey exchanged a bewildered glance with him.

“And I wish not too.” Jonathan puffed with frustration then looked at his progeny's neck; he could smell that he was feeding himself well. “I meant no harm to anyone, but those who do me harm or England.”

“Oh, England was not good enough for you before.” He said, struggling to break Jonathan’s hold. “Why return now, everything is fine.”

“She is a beast and never let's go,” Jonathan murmured into Geoffrey’s neck; he wondered if the hunter still tasted the same as he did before, his fangs extended as the blood sang to him. He gave in to his bloodlust, biting down piercing the hunter’s neck, he heard a sharp hiss from the other man, Jonathan felt his hold loosen, and pain explodes in his side. Falling on one knee as he examined the knife stuck above his hip.

“Do not underestimate me again.” The Hunter snarled. “And do not take without asking.” Jonathan slumped back into the chair behind him. Jerking his hand back, removing the knife, but his flesh was mending with the blood flowing around his veins. After a moment's hesitation, Geoffrey sat down next to him. “What is this,” he was confused by all the emotions bombarding him.

Jonathan laughed. It was quite a pathetic sound. “I am not old enough or wise enough to help you with that.”

“So you feel it too.” Geoffrey pushed.

Jonathan was silent. He could not shake the need to hold Geoffrey in his arms again; something had always told him that Geoffrey was the progeny that he wanted close to him. Lady Ashbury had spoken of bonds between sire and childe could be a strong one, formed with or without the knowledge of each party. It would seem that Jonathan and Geoffrey had created one quite easy.

“How do we stop it” Geoffrey was determined to make this a fight, it is all he knew, his whole life was fighting, what else was there in times of need.

Sitting up, smoothing down his hair and fixing up his appearance. “It will grow on you, sooner or later,” Jonathan said as he walked over to the window and stared down into the street below. 

“You bloody fucking bastard.” Geoffrey started to rage against him. “You are just going to let this happen.”

“Goddammit, Geoffrey. Just stop.” Jonathan snapped. But Geoffrey was beyond listening now, as he heard the door slam hard with the man’s newly acquired strength he could have broken it off the hinges. Jonathan watches Geoffrey go, only seeing him turn around once to stare into his eyes from the street. “You are mine, Geoffrey. So remember that.”


	6. Chapter 6

Jonathan was growing frustrated with Geoffrey. He had tried to contact him as an average human would, but Geoffrey had just continued to ignore him. So Jonathan felt that there was no choice, but to invade Geoffrey’s privacy with his sire abilities. Jonathan had truly never wanted to be like Myrddin, but he could not get a moment or word in. Jonathan had been considering it.  
When he had sensed Geoffrey returning to him of his own free will, Jonathan was glad that he was not going to have to invade his mind, to be honest.  
Avery appeared to inform Jonathan of his guest. Geoffrey entered into Jonathan’s research office. Which once was his father’s office, Jonathan had redecorated and styled the room, as he did not want to think about his father anymore.

“I want to despise you, you know,” Geoffrey said, pacing up and down the room like one of those poor animals in the zoo with the small enclosures. Geoffrey was always a man of action, sitting he could do, but moving and doing was his way of life.

“I know, and I understand.” Jonathan agreed.

“There is nothing.” Jonathan nodded as he took a seat by the fireplace on the left side of the room; Geoffrey just followed suit taking the position opposite Jonathan. “I’ve read everything that I could get my hands on, and everything said just as much as you have told me,” Geoffrey explained.

“I am but still young myself. Not many like to discuss it, my only reference place is Lady Ashbury, and her knowledge is only as far as William Marshal was willing to tell.”

“Did Lady Ashbury not bond with her childe?” Geoffrey questioned.

“No, they did not; she would have killed him or stayed if that had been the case.” Jonathan leaned toward him, aware of the strange emotions building between them. “We should feel grateful that we have each other because I’m sick of all this depressing stuff lingering in my life.”   
  
“Bloody depressing shit, when will it ever end.” He just slipped a hand up to rub his temples as if pained by a headache which Jonathan was not sure if Geoffrey could feel them anymore.

“Myrddin Wyltt my creator I’m sure is bonded to The Red Queen,” Jonathan spoke quietly. “William Marshal and Lady Ashbury were close, but not like that. Myrddin or Arthur, I have no idea, and there is no knowledge for anything before that, as far as I could find.”

“So, what you just want me to be all over you now?” Geoffrey spat.

“You have already made up your own mind Geoffrey,” Jonathan said, smiling, as he got up from his previous position, slowly he returned to his desk. “No one makes up your mind, but you.” Jonathan could now understand his maker for speaking in riddles and not staying around long. The younger ones are a little annoying, with time their vampire abilities would kick in, and more knowledge would present itself. Understanding ones nature had been built into the vampire; it was all how one interpreted it.

“Ha, I do.”Geoffrey forced a dry laugh out. He just lounged all over the chair like a child, who had no manners in how to sit correctly. His eyes closed as his head gently leaned back to rest upon the armrest.

Jonathan looked hungrily upon the sight before him, returning the papers in his hands back to the desk. Slowly stalking over the figure in the chair, lowering himself to his hands and knees, as he leaned down to Geoffrey’s ear. “May I partake?” He asked almost in a shy manner.

“You can make up your mind can you not.” Geoffrey just sighed as he sounded bored.

“I was told to ask before I scratch.” Jonathan knew that Geoffrey was testing him. The make or break situation was here.

“If I let you, what is returned?” Geoffrey lay there, his eyes wide open looking Jonathan straight in the face. The man had eyes that could kill and would kill if the need arisen.

Jonathan found it funny that no other had tried to turn this rough gem. Geoffrey was worth it; he did not disappoint Jonathan in any way. Geoffrey was still himself, only more powerful. “I’ll try to be a companion and leave my mind open to you. I might need some reminding, of course.” He offered what he could. “I am but a man.”

“You were but a man. Now a fool you be.”

“And what makes you?” Jonathan's eyebrow lifted as they remained in the same positions. No Geoffrey could not bore him, he entertained and pushed his buttons.

“What makes me. No better than you.” Geoffrey just let Jonathan’s fingers untie his scarf from around his neck.

“Ah, but you are a part of me,” Jonathan said, folding the treasured possession and placing it on the side table. He turned quickly to wrap his arms around Geoffrey's underarms as the man’s position had changed to his hands, behind his head and using them as a pillow.

“No better than you,” He shrugged as Jonathan nuzzled his neck and partaken in a tasting. “No better,” Geoffrey said, running one free hand into Jonathan's hair. What a weird creature. Vampires did not seem to have an end to their strange ways or behaviours. Years studying them, observing them and little information gained, becoming one and having to accept or die. Such peculiar creatures indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments 100% welcome.


End file.
